


the face of love, a world with you

by bellalove



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Julie Molina Appreciation, Luke Patterson Loves Julie Molina, Luke Patterson's love language is touch, and, idk what to say the timeline is nonexistant, somehow both
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:56:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29819070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellalove/pseuds/bellalove
Summary: five times luke takes care of julie + one time julie takes care of lukeor, an excuse to write all of the juke whump i couldn't get out of my head
Relationships: Alex Mercer & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters, Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Comments: 24
Kudos: 113





	1. one

For what feels like the twentieth time in the last hour, Julie rolls over to tap the screen of her phone. Four thirty-two A.M. glares back at her, practically mocking her six A.M. alarm.

She audibly sighs, knowing that, realistically, she’s not going back to sleep any time soon.

Julie’s been awake for close to an hour now, having woken up from the worst nightmare she’s had in a long time. Somehow, her brain had artfully intertwined losing her mom and losing the band all into one hellish storyline.

She woke up crying, feeling like she couldn’t breathe, and wishing she could go down to the studio and just check that they were okay.

An hour ago, it seemed like a stupid idea - like _way_ too much of an overreaction to sneak out into the chilled night air in only pajamas just to make sure the band was still there, solid and unmoved. But with sleep now thoroughly out of the question, it’s no longer seeming like the insane idea Julie originally thought it was.

She thinks about it for barely another minute before she’s slipping out of bed with a sigh and a vague thought of just how ridiculous she’s gonna feel about this later on.

Logically, Julie knows they’re still there and okay. She knows that they wouldn’t just cross over in the middle of a random Thursday night - but she can’t shake the sick, tight feeling in her chest that’s telling her she needs to check.

By the time Julie gets to the door of the studio, she’s crying again, because apparently thinking about losing her mom and losing the boys is the perfect storm for an emotional breakdown. 

She rolls her eyes at the tears that she can't seem to stop and breathes to herself, “ _So stupid_ ,” as she gets the door open.

It’s dark inside, but the light from the street lamps filtering through the windows is just enough to illuminate where she’s stepping.

She steps further into the room - just breathing a sigh of relief at catching sight of Luke’s sleeping form, when-

“Julie?”

It’s Alex who calls out, and she somehow missed him where he’s sitting – to her right, curled up in an armchair with a notebook in his lap.

Alex is staring at her – half worried, half bewildered - and when she thinks about it, it's probably because she’s breaking into the studio at half-past four in the morning, a second away from completely falling apart.

“Are you okay?” Alex wonders, leaning forward and squinting.

And because Julie is making all sorts of good decisions, she instantly starts _sobbing,_ which she thinks is really some sort of cruel and unusual punishment because _holy hell this is so embarrassing._

“ _Shit_ ,” Alex says immediately, looking considerably more freaked out than before; which, fair.

Then there’s a tired, “‘Lex? What’s going on?” that definitely comes from the previously sleeping Luke.

Julie is actually about to _hyperventilate._

She’s _sobbing_ in front of two-thirds of her ghost band - one of which she’s _pretty sure_ she’s in a relationship with.

This night _seriously_ cannot get worse.

Then Luke is echoing Alex's, “ _Shit_ ,” as he obviously gets a grasp on the situation.

Alex is in front of her suddenly, crowding her space and asking her what’s wrong.

And the only thing Julie can think to say is, “ _I’m sorry_. I didn’t mean to wake you guys up,” as if that’s the most pressing issue at hand and _not_ the fact that she’s currently a walking faucet.

“Jules?” Luke’s in front of her now too, looking a little tired and a lot worried. “Hey, what’s going on? You’re freaking us out here.”

 _Yeah_ \- she can definitely see how that might be happening.

Luke isn’t good with tears, and she imagines that Alex isn’t much better because they’re both teenage boys from the 90s and definitely emotionally underdeveloped.

“ _Sorry_ ,” she says again because her brain keeps shutting off any time she opens her mouth, and sorry is the only thing that keeps coming out.

It’s Alex who assures, “It’s fine,” but his terrified expression isn’t really convincing her.

“Yeah- _we don't care,"_ Luke jumps in, his eyes big and worried. "We just wanna know what's wrong." After a second of silence, he prompts, “Jules?”

She finally looks up at them, and they both look _so_ worried. If Julie wasn't feeling so unbelievably stupid and embarrassed, it might be kind of heart-warming.

Julie uses the edge of her sweatshirt sleeve to wipe her tears and assure them, “I’m fine. I just-I’m fine now.”

“ _Clearly_ ,” Luke says, and usually it would be snarky, but it’s gentle.

“It was. . .just a nightmare-a _stupid_ nightmare, and I just needed to–to make sure you guys were okay. So _really_ , I'm okay. I just. . .can't stop crying. Sorry.”

They both immediately soften, and Julie kind of hates how it makes her feel like they’re taking pity on her.

Julie opens her mouth to add something on, to reassure them that she doesn't need pity, but the world really is against her, so silent tears come in place of the words.

It’s enough to make Luke’s face turn _devastated_ , and then he’s stepping into her space, opening his arms.

Hugs from the band are definitely a thing she’s getting used to, but she doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to the way Luke hugs.

Luke hugs like it's the last one he'll ever get - like it's the last one that _she'll_ ever get. He presses her solid against his chest and sets his chin on top of her head and holds her tight so it’s all-encompassing in a way that makes Julie sag against him.

The sound is muffled by Luke’s T-shirt, but she hears Alex whisper something, and then she can tell that he’s poofed out.

After a minute, Julie feels Luke start to pull away, but she latches on, not quite wanting to let go. She can quite literally _feel_ the soft laugh that he gives, no doubt at her sudden clinginess. 

If she wasn’t feeling as bad as she is, she might feel more embarrassed by her need to literally _cling_ to him. But it's just her and Luke, so she's content to rely on him a little. 

“You feeling any better?” Luke mumbles, low and soft and muffled by him pressing his lips to the edge of her forehead.

She hums against him and then finally pulls away, feeling slightly better. She can at least rest easy knowing the band is okay.

“Sorry I woke you up just for. . .” she gestures to herself, “all this.”

Luke just shakes his head and reaches a hand to tuck a loose curl behind her ear.

“Nah, ghosts don’t sleep very well anyway.” He meets her eyes again and smiles gently at her. Then, clearly reading her hesitation, he reassures her again, “It’s all good, boss.” He nods towards the couch before she has a chance to respond and asks her, “You still tired?”

 _God_ _yes_.

“Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep. I have to be up in like an hour, so it wouldn’t even be worth it-“

“Jules-just. . ." Luke bites his lip, glances her over, "try? No offense, but you look exhausted.”

Julie wants to say no - but Luke is staring at her with those wide, pleading eyes of his, and something in her heart caves a little.

With a sigh, she says, “Fine. But no way am I sleeping on that couch.”

If Luke thinks it’s odd that she grabs him by the hand and drags him up to her bedroom with her, he doesn’t mention it. 

She kind of doesn't want to let him out of her sight because without him there, she might wake up from another nightmare - _alone_ \- and she genuinely doesn't know if she can handle that.

By the time they get back to her room, Julie can already see a mellow stream of sunlight peeking in through her window, and she makes the executive decision to grab the nearest sheet of paper and write a note explaining to her dad that she is _deathly_ ill and won't be going to school.

From over her shoulder, Luke says, “Technically, you _need_ a sick day, so it’s not really lying.”

For a minute, she forgot he was there. She glances back at him, and he’s grinning.

With a shake of her head, she says, “You’re a bad influence.”

Luke doesn’t respond to that, and when Julie looks at him again, he’s moved to her bed, and he's sitting up against her headboard, starting to arrange her pillows and blankets around himself in a way that leaves a space just big enough for her.

“That for me?” Julie asks, gesturing to the space, teasing him just so she can watch the hint of a blush rise on his cheeks.

He rolls his eyes despite the blush and settles more into the bed, still not quite laying down, and says, “You _dragged_ me up here just to make fun of me. Unbelievable.”

“You seemed pretty willing to me.”

“Yeah because you were _sobbing_.”

It’s Julie’s turn to roll her eyes, and she joins him on the bed with a teasing " _Rude_ ," rolling off of her tongue.

She immediately sinks into the prepared space, happily situated halfway on her pillow and halfway on Luke’s shoulder. The tiredness she’s been feeling suddenly comes back in full swing. She can feel her eyes lulling when-

“This okay?” Luke asks, and he’s back to being gentle - no teasing in his tone.

Julie hums to tell him that it is and pulls her blanket up to her chin.

“You gonna be able to sleep?” Luke throws out.

"Not if you keep asking questions," she mumbles, just to hear him chuckle at her.

Julie thinks she might hear him say goodnight, but she isn’t completely listening anymore.

She falls asleep with Luke’s hand tangled in her hair, humming a tune to a song she can’t place.


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: discussion of periods/blood
> 
> essentially, this chapter happened because i’m currently on my period and hating every second, and i needed to vent about all the struggles 😔✌️

Julie arrives home from school with a bone-weary kind of exhaustion and in more pain than she’s ever been in in her life (probably not, but it feels like it).

She beelines straight to the studio, half expecting to have to find a way to explain her current crisis to the whole band, but she only finds Alex there.

He's beating at his drum kit with a newly-acquired pair of headphones perched on his head. He notices her almost immediately and smiles, hand reaching out to still his crash while he slides the headphones down to rest on his neck.

“Hey! You're early. You ready to practice? I can get Luke and Reg. They just went-“

“Actually,” Julie starts, wincing slightly when she realizes she definitely cut him off, “I was kinda hoping we could call it. I’m not really feeling up to it.”

Alex turns concerned then, and it’s exactly what Julie didn’t want.

“Are you sick?” Alex asks immediately.

Julie shrugs, not quite wanting to broadcast to the world that she’s having period issues.

She settles on, “Something like that. But don’t worry though. I’m just gonna go sleep it off. You’ll tell the guys?”

“Yeah, of course.” Alex watches her like he can see that she isn’t telling him the truth, but all he says is, “Feel better.”

With a tight smile, Julie mumbles out a, “Thanks,” and then she practically runs back inside so she can get a heat source on her uterus before she actually dies.

When Julie’s _finally_ gotten a heating pad and a cup of tea, she makes it up to her room and shuts off all of her lights, immediately climbing into bed with a breath of relief.

After fighting for a few seconds to get the heating pad exactly where she wants it, the pain shifts suddenly and becomes less of an ache and more of the _curl your entire body into a ball from the intensity_ type of pain.

It's the same pain that had gotten her excused from school for the last three periods, and after dealing with it all day, Julie barely has the energy to cry anymore. She lets the tears fall without and turns her head into her pillow to block out any threat of light.

Pressed up against her pillow, Julie _barely_ hears the knock that sounds on her door. She’s kind of upset that she does because the last thing she wants to do is have a conversation with anyone.

She thinks it’s probably her dad home early, so she barely lifts her head and calls out, “Come in."

The door stays closed, which should tip her off, but her brain isn’t really working miracles just now.

And then Luke is popping in with a, “Alex said you weren’t feeling good?” rolling off his tongue before Julie has a chance to blink. He hesitates by the door, rocking back on his heels like maybe he’s nervous about barging into her room largely uninvited. “You okay?”

Clearly he doesn’t see the tears yet - between her hair and her pillow, her red-rimmed eyes must not be evident.

“Yeah. I’m-“ a shooting pain takes her breath away, and it’s all she can do to not make a noise, “fine-“ she breathes out, but it does nothing to alleviate the worry in Luke’s eyes.

He’s staring at her now, taking a few steps forward as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing–“ another _stabbing_ pain.

Luke is hovering at her bed suddenly, hands fluttering at his side like he's anxious to do something.

“ _Julie_?”

“Can you–“ she sits up then, trying to shift in any way that will make the cramping go away, but it makes it worse–

From up close, Luke must notice the tears because he’s suddenly ducking down to meet her eyes and asking, “Are you _crying_?”

But Julie suddenly remembers that she needs to take another dose of medicine, and that's probably why they pain has kicked back up, so instead of answering Luke, she says, “Just-can you get me the bottle of pills-they’re labeled Midol? It’s sitting on–in my bathroom.” Luke’s already moving when she calls after him, “On the counter somewhere.”

He’s gone for only a second, and he comes back flushed, holding up the bottle of Midol for her to approve.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Julie tries to breathe a sigh, knowing that the the pain will soon settle, but it comes out as a hitched breath. She reaches for the bottle, murmuring a, “Thanks.”

“What’s it for? Why are you _crying_ Julie?”

The pills are already in her mouth by the time Luke asks his questions, so Julie picks up her tea and downs them before she answers.

“It’s. . .nothing. I just feel–“ this time, the pain that comes isn’t stabbing, it just sits low and still in her abdomen, and she bites her lip to keep more tears from falling. “The medicine should help. Don’t worry about it.”

Gingerly, Luke seats himself next to her, like he’s afraid he may hurt her by sitting too quickly. He sets a hand on her blanket-covered ankle and squeezes gently.

“You’re _crying_ , so it must be pretty bad. You should get your dad or something.”

Julie hesitates to tell him – Luke is definitely the type to be either completely unfazed by a period or blush red and trip over himself trying to attend to her every whim. Either way, though, she’s pretty confident that his reaction wouldn’t be a _bad_ one.

So she tells him, “I don’t need my dad, Luke. I’m okay. This is kind of a _monthly_ thing,” and she decides that Luke is somehow a combination of both bashful _and_ unfazed.

“Oh? Like–“ he does blush, but then he says, “your period?” and even if it’s kind of the bare minimum, Julie likes the fact that he isn’t afraid of the word. “It’s _this_ bad?”

Julie finally feels herself laugh, watching Luke’s horrified expression.

“Yeah. It can get pretty rough.” She feels another squeeze against her ankle and closes her eyes against the touch. “But I’ll be fine.”

She prays the medicine starts working soon.

And then Luke is asking, with what sounds like his lip between his teeth, “You got everything you need? You want me to get you something?”

She smiles and keeps her eyes closed.

“Nah. I’m good, _Lucas_. You can relax.”

She doesn’t even have to open her eyes to know that he’s rolling his.

“ _So mean_ ,” he says, tone teasing but his words soft.

“I’m bleeding out,” Julie quips. “It’s my right.”

When Luke doesn’t say anything for a second too long, she cracks an eye open, and she’s surprised to find him already staring back at her. His gaze is something _soft_ and almost. . . _reverent._ It makes her heart stutter in her chest.

His tone drops to something gentle, and he asks, “You gonna be okay, Jules?”

With a tired, barely-there smile pulling at her lips, Julie tells him, “Once the meds start to kick in. Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

Luke is biting his lip, staring at her.

Julie somehow already knows what he’s thinking – that she’s in pain, and that he should be doing something about it even if there isn’t anything _to_ do about it.

“Come lay down,” Julie says, something about the state of pain she’s in making her bolder than usual. “Keep me company.”

“You sure?”

Julie can’t help but smile. Behind the rockstar facade Luke is actually _so_ _earnest_.

She hums her agreement at him.

Never one to turn her down, Luke toes off his shoes at the edge of her bed and unhooks the mess of metal chains hanging from the pocket of his jeans. He sets them on her nightstand and climbs in over her.

He pushes up against her side and glances at her.

“This okay?”

It _is_ \- more than okay - but it would be so much better if–

Before she can lose her nerve, Julie makes the decision to climb over and slide in between his legs, so her back is pressed up solid against his chest. She can _feel_ Luke take in a sharp inhale as she settles down, but she tries not to think about it too much.

“This okay?” she echoes him, teasing a little, but mostly genuinely asking.

“Yeah-“ Luke clears his throat and laughs a little, “yeah, boss. It’s fine.”

And then there's a pain _shooting_ up through her abdomen to clench at her stomach, and it has her jolting upright, leaning over herself and breathing out a, "Shit."

"Jesus-" comes Luke's voice from behind her - his hand finds its way to the small of her back. "You okay?"

"Yeah-just. . .cramp-sorry."

He seems to understand that there's nothing he can do about it, even if his hand is dancing by her hip, like he's willing to do anything to make the pain go away.

After another few seconds of neither of them moving, the cramp releases it's hold on her, and she slowly sits back up, blinking through a fresh wave of tears.

"Okay?" Luke asks again, and when she nods, he gently reaches for her waist to pull her back in.

Julie definitely does _not_ get butterflies.

Before she can worry about Luke noticing the blush rising on her cheeks, he's saying gently, “Julie, you’re like _really_ warm. Is that like-”

Julie peels back the duvet slightly so Luke is able to see the strip of bare skin between her t-shirt and her sweatpants where the heating pad currently preserving her sanity is situated.

“Probably the reason,” she explains.

Luke hums out an “Oh,” in her ear. "Does that help?” he’s asking suddenly, nodding to the heating pad when Julie looks up at him for clarification.

“Sometimes.” She shrugs. “Just depends on how bad I’m feeling.”

Julie’s unsure of when this turned into a question and answer game, but if Luke wants to know, she doesn’t mind answering. It keeps her mind off of the pain, at least. 

“Can I ask you a dumb question?”

Julie laughs, closing her eyes again and saying, “Thought you were already doing that.”

She can actually feel Luke sigh against her, like he's exasperated. She imagines that he’s rolling his eyes, but she's comfortable, and she's not about to turn around to find out. 

Then there’s too long of a silence, so Julie wonders, laughing a little, “You gonna ask your question?”

“Yeah, I’m getting to it. Just-is the pain like-what’s it from? I mean–where’s it at? Is it like a stomach-ache?” Luke seems to realize that he’s literally word-vomiting at her, so he slows down and says, “Sorry–I. . .I don’t know a whole lot about all of this.”

He laughs like he’s slightly out of his depth, which he is, but Julie finds it more endearing than anything.

_Stupid fucking period hormones making her actually blush at every goddamn thing this man does._

“It’s like–“ she pauses, trying to come up with some way to adequately explain. “It kinda feels like someone’s. . .twisting my insides around. I don’t really know how to-”

Luke cuts her off with a sort of appalled sounding noise, and she laughs in response.

“And it’s not–it’s not in my stomach–it’s more. . .well–here-“ she reaches back for his hand and tosses her heating pad to the side, quickly replacing it with Luke’s hand. “It’s. . . _here_ ,” she murmurs, pressing down into her abdomen with his fingers.

Luke immediately tenses and stops her from pushing any further, spitting out, “ _Doesn’t that hurt?_ ”

Julie shakes her head, glancing back to meet his eyes without completely turning her head.

“No–no. It doesn’t hurt. The pressure–it kinda helps sometimes.”

He seems to take that in for a second.

“Like–“ Luke settles back again, pulling gently at her hips so she’s flush against him, then moving his right hand to slowly press circles into the skin just above the waistband of her sweats, “this?”

Julie’s eyes slip closed automatically, and she has a hard time believing that Luke _doesn’t_ know what he’s doing.

Not that she’s complaining though.

Julie tries not to think of the implication of Luke literally _massaging_ her abdomen and tries focusing on the relief instead.

“Yeah, just–“ she guides his left hand to her skin, and he takes it from there, both hands working slow movements over her skin.

It’s soothing in a way she never thought it could be. His hands are warm and gentle, and the midol is beginning to do its job.

It takes a minute of him massaging before Julie starts to laugh softly.

Never in a million years could she have guessed that her day from hell would end with her in Luke’s lap getting a _massage_.

“Jules?” Luke’s voice is teasing, and he laughs too, raising his right hand to poke her just above her hip. “What’re you laughing at?”

Squirming against his hand, she laughs again, and says, “It’s nothing. Keep going.”

At her command, Luke doesn’t say anything else, just moves his hands back and keeps the steady rhythm.

Julie feels herself going lax again. She almost wants to ask how he’s so good at it, but she’s not entirely sure she wants the answer.

“You good?” Luke asks gently.

Her pain is fading by the second, and Luke is pressed up against her - giving her a _massage_ like it's not the strangest thing he's ever done - and maybe she _is_ good.

Well – _better than she was_.

So she says, “Yeah-yeah, I’m better,” and leans further into Luke’s touch. “Thanks.”


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: vomiting/illness 
> 
> basically just a sickfic that i snuck into a 5 + 1

Julie’s finger slips for the tenth time this practice, and the chord she plays is so unfortunate that it makes _Luke_ wince, which is saying something considering he’s been artfully schooling his expressions so he doesn’t upset her.

Reggie and Alex aren’t that subtle, though. They exchange a glance.

Julie wants to throw up. Literally. _God_ , her head is _pounding_.

“Julie?” Alex is calling, hands stilling on his drum kit. “Is something wrong?”

If Julie were in the business of being honest, she would have admitted when practice started that she currently feels like _death warmed over_ and that she’s got a migraine from hell and that being in band practice when she’s sensitive to noise is making her so nauseous she can barely see straight.

But it just so happens that she's in the music business, and they have a gig at the end of the week, and if she admits that she’s sick, neither her dad nor the band will let her so much as touch a piano or a mic until she's back to tip-top shape.

“No- _sorry_. I’m fine. I just can’t get this chord progression.”

It’s another lie - the chords are relatively simple, and she’s been practicing this song for a while, so she has it down. It’s her _brain_ that isn’t cooperating.

Her eyes keep going fuzzy, and the keys keep blurring together.

Luke turns to stare at her at her words, like he doesn't quite want to believe her; Julie suspects it's because he wrote the damn thing and _knows_ that this song is easy to play and that she _should_ be breezing through it. 

“It’s really close to the progression in _Bright_ ,” Reggie pipes up, trying to be helpful. “What’re you having trouble with?”

Julie doesn’t think her head has ever hurt this much or that she’s ever felt this sick to her stomach.

She’s known all day that behind the guise of the migraine, throwing up or blacking out (or a fun combination of both) is somewhere in her near future.

The only thing that’s kept her going is not letting the boys see that she’s sick. They need to practice, and she refuses to be the reason they suck at this gig.

“Um. . .” Julie’s mind goes conveniently blank.

Between feeling like she’s one breath away from her vision going dark or vomiting all over her keyboard, while simultaneously having all of the guys staring expectantly at her, Julie freezes.

And Luke - _sweet, eager to help Luke_ \- extends her an olive branch by saying, “You’re just really having trouble with the D minor, right?”

And she goes to tell him that _yes, that’s the one_ , even though she plays that chord just fine, but she gets her mouth open an inch, and she can already feel the nausea reaching it’s peak.

She stays stock still, hands still lifted awkwardly to the keyboard in front of her.

“Julie?” Alex calls, looking at her with a raised brow. “You look kinda-“

And then she’s _bolting_ for the bathroom, and _fuck_ , this is exactly what she didn’t want to happen.

She already knows that they’re going to follow her, and then she’s gonna have to explain to them why she hadn’t told them, and she's not gonna be able to play and- _Jesus,_ she’s never been so grateful to be on a bathroom floor in her _life_.

Julie hears the door open rather than sees it because she’s busy about to absolutely _pass out_ from the combination of the pressure in her head and the vomiting.

There’s a “ _Jesus Christ_ ,” that definitely comes from Luke, and then someone is pulling her hair back. She guesses that it’s Alex because she catches the glint of his rings when he reaches to her wrist to pull off a purple scrunchie; she can feel that the ponytail is pretty half-assed, but it’s out of her face, so she isn’t complaining.

There’s so much commotion around her that she doesn’t realize she’s stopped throwing up until Luke is at her side, gently pulling her away from the toilet.

She drops her head onto his shoulder with a whine.

“Alex, get her something to drink,” Luke commands, and then he’s beckoning Reggie who is standing by with a wet washcloth, looking very out of his element.

Reggie offers the rag to her with a look of concern, and she takes it gratefully, wiping the ring of what she’s sure is vomit from around her mouth. _Classy_.

She returns to her place in Luke’s shoulder.

“One hell of an exit, Molina,” Luke says teasingly, but there’s worry in his tone.

He shimmies his hand between his shoulder and her forehead then, but if he finds that she’s running a fever he doesn’t share with the class.

Alex comes back before she can ask, holding a blue gatorade. He seems marginally more prepared for this than Reggie, and Julie really wants to ask if he has any younger siblings, but that kind of feels like a conversation for another day.

Preferably when she doesn't feel like she's dying.

Julie doesn’t know if it’s the vomiting that did it, or if the migraine is finally reaching its peak, but the pain she was in before has dialed up to eleven, and she feels a millisecond away from either passing out or throwing up again. Maybe both.

She vaguely registers someone maneuvering around her to flush the toilet, and the noise hurts so bad it has her whimpering and turning into Luke’s shirt like an actual child.

_God, she let this go way too long._

“Hey, hey-Jules-breathe,” Luke says, pulling her back from his shoulder so he can assess her. “Is it your stomach?”

She shakes her head because speaking feels like a chore and taps a finger against her temple.

“Your head?” Luke affirms.

“Probably a migraine,” Alex supplies helpfully, automatically lowering his tone.

Julie tries to nod in response to Alex, but ends up with her head swimming instead, so she decides to go back to Luke’s shoulder.

Later, she’ll probably be embarrassed about relying so heavily on Luke (even if they’ve been “ _something_ ” for what seems like forever), but his shoulder blocks out light and noise and makes her feel safe, and she needs it right now.

“Here,” and then her head is being gently turned, and there’s a gatorade being shoved into her hand, uncapped and ready to drink. Luke says quietly, “Drink slow.”

And then he’s turning to say something to Alex and Reggie, but Julie focuses on tuning them out and sipping her drink without throwing up again.

“Jules?” Luke’s voice is low this time, “You still feel sick? Or are you done?”

“I’m done,” she says softly, trying to keep her voice at the lowest octave she can. “Can you-“ He waits for her instruction, but Julie is feeling _far_ too confident in herself for the lack of equilibrium she’s currently experiencing and takes it upon herself.

She uses Luke’s shoulders and the counter as leverage to help her up, but she sways immediately, and Luke is on his feet, steadying her at her waist before she has the opportunity to take a swan dive.

“Woah- _careful_.“ Luke shakes his head at her. “Can’t get the chord progression _my ass_. Probably been a breath away from passing out all practice, huh?” She starts to protest, but Luke just pulls gently at her waist and says, “Come on, boss. Let’s get you horizontal, and then you can tell us all about it.”

They make it out of the bathroom and back into the studio, and Alex and Reggie are shuffling around the couch - Alex fluffing out a pillow and Reggie spreading out a blanket. Julie realizes that Alex and Reggie are setting up the couch for _her_. It’s dark now - all of the lights off and a sheet thrown over the windows framing the piano.

And with as much sincerity she can muster in this state, Julie says, “Thanks guys.”

Between the nausea and the pain and the dizziness, if she’s honest, Julie feels a little drunk. She’s still swaying on her feet, so she unashamedly lets Luke do all the work in getting her to the couch.

But before she even gets to lay back, Reggie is demanding, “Why didn’t you tell us you were sick?”

“Let her catch her breath, Reg, jeez,” Alex scolds, shoving at his bandmate’s arm.

Then Luke is finally helping her lay down, and the room tilts dangerously.

Seeming to understand the look in her eyes, Luke asks quickly, “You gonna be sick again?”

She focuses all of her energy into _not doing that_.

When she gets her bearings again, she shakes her head slowly and says, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you look it,” Luke says, and she knows that he’s not really annoyed with _her_ , just with her not saying anything.

“Not the time, Luke,” Alex chimes in, thumping Luke in the back of the head with a roll of his eyes.

“We needed to practice,” Julie pipes up finally, feeling her head practically pulsing against her words.

Luke sighs and says, “Jules, practice can wait until you don’t feel like you’re gonna pass out on your keyboard."

Julie desperately wants to argue her side a little more, but her head is pounding so bad she doesn’t think she actually can form words, so she closes her eyes instead.

She hears another sigh, and the last thing she remembers before she drifts off is Luke pressing a kiss to her forehead and saying, “Get some rest, Jules.”


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i write an entire song for this chapter just to only use the bridge? yes. yes i did.
> 
> enjoy :) xx

Julie throws open the backdoor, and it slams against the exterior with a noise that makes her flinch. She's breathing heavier than usual as she closes the door behind her - she closes it with her free hand, her mom’s songbook clutched in her other like a lifeline.

She’s half expecting the studio to be empty - except Luke is on the floor, backed up against the couch, acoustic guitar in his lap and a pick between his teeth. His song book is open on the floor next to him, and he _was_ playing a soft melody, but he stops immediately when he sees her.

His face practically _lights_ up at the sight of her, and Julie really wishes he would stop looking at her like that - like she’s the sun or a beacon of light on a dark night.

Julie is decidedly not feeling very bright at the moment.

“Hey, Jules.” Luke slips the pick from his mouth, grin fading into a confused expression. “I thought you were busy with something.”

She _was_ busy - finally going through the rest of her mom’s trunk of things. The songbook is something that she found at the bottom of it, buried under a pile of 90s t-shirts and a quilt that Julie thinks her grandmother made.

Julie had opened the book for a split second, and it landed on a song that was most definitely about her. She had snapped it shut immediately.

“Yeah-“ _Jesus_ , her voice sounds _wrecked_. She clears her throat. “I was. I just-“

Julie almost kind of wishes she could burst into tears - maybe that would provide her with some relief. But instead of tears, there’s this horrible _numb_ feeling pressing down on her chest and making her feel like she’s half a second away from suffocating.

She shakes her head and glances down at the worn book in her hand.

“Did you wanna show me that?” Luke asks, and his voice is gentle all of the sudden, like maybe he can feel her devastation from across the room.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Julie shrugs. She doesn’t even know why she’d come in here. She just had to get out of that house.

Julie closes the space between them and joins Luke on the floor, falling down with a graceless thump. She scoots her back to the couch, so they're right next to each other, and hands over the book.

She closes her eyes and leans her head back against the couch, waiting for Luke to understand.

Julie listens to the sound of turning pages for a full five seconds before Luke asks, “Your mom’s?”

She kind of wishes, somewhere deep in a selfish place of herself that her mom wasn’t a songwriter - that she didn’t leave pieces of her heart spread out on paper for Julie to find in the bottom of a trunk when she finally feels like she’s healing - words that rip open the barely closed wounds and make fresh waves of grief wash over her.

“Yeah,” she croaks out, her whole body feeling heavy. “I was going through some of her stuff, and I found it.”

Luke puts a hand on her thigh and squeezes gently as he says, “These songs are killer.”

Julie sighs. She knows they are.

“I know.”

The distinct crinkle of a page turning sounds, and Luke squeezes her again, this time with more intent - like he’s trying to get her attention.

Julie opens her eyes and glances over.

The book is open to the song she had closed it on. The title - _fly_ \- is written in her mother’s pretty cursive at the top of the page.

“This one about you?” Luke wonders, looking at her like he already knows the answer.

His entire face looks soft and sad, and Julie kind of hates that she ruined his mood.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” She tries for nonchalance, but doesn’t really know if it lands, “I didn’t finish reading it though. Any good?”

Luke smiles then, eyes going back to the page. There's stars in his eyes like there always are when he’s talking about music.

“ _Really_ good.” He looks over at her again and smiles sadly. “She was a great writer, Julie.”

She repeats, “I know,” and lets her eyes slide closed again.

There’s a moment of silence, and Julie focuses in on the warmth of Luke’s hand on her thigh and tries to get the weight pressing on her chest to lessen.

Easier said than done.

Julie wishes she didn't feel so ungrateful at having, essentially, a book of open letters from her mom to her, but the thing is - _the songs_ _hurt -_ they hurt to play, and they hurt to sing, and most days, it's too much to handle. 

“It isn’t finished,” Luke comments quietly, breaking her out of her thoughts.

Julie nods and sits up a little so she can point to the date in the corner of the page.

“She started it a few weeks before-“

Something catches in her throat, but she still can’t cry, so nothing comes out. Julie sighs.

“Jules-I. . .I’m sorry,” Luke murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles into the skin above her knee.

She gives an attempt at a smile and says, “Me too.”

Luke stares at the song for another few seconds before looking at her and asking carefully, “You wanna finish it?”

If Julie’s honest with herself, the thought had immediately crossed her mind when she found the song. It wouldn’t take _too_ much work - the lyrics are finished, and it’s only missing part of the melody.

But there’s something holding her back - like maybe she doesn’t want to disturb the last song her mom ever wrote.

“We don’t have to,” Luke says suddenly, like he’s reading her mind. “But I can help if you want to do it.” He sets down her mom’s songbook gently and picks up his own. “We don’t even have to mess with the original copy. We can do it in mine.”

Maybe it won't be too much this time. Maybe all she needs is to lose herself in some music.

So she tells him, “Yeah, okay,” and reaches for Luke’s book and the abandoned pen at his side.

With a small smile, Luke settles his guitar in his lap and says, “Give me the chords that are already there, and we’ll just add on.”

So they spend the next half hour, working out chords and little lyric changes, and trying to understand the sound that her mom was going for.

The chorus moves fast, but the verse and the bridge break down into something a little slower and more emotional. It would be a perfect song for the band, and Julie knows that Luke is thinking it too, but she doesn’t think she could get through this one in an actual performance. She’s barely hanging on as is.

They’ve almost managed to finish off the song when Luke is scribbling at his book laid out in front of them, suddenly asking, “Hey, will you sing the bridge real fast? That last A chord isn’t sounding right anymore.”

So Julie picks up her mom’s songbook, and Luke starts playing the new melody, and she starts to sing-

“ _And when life gets hard, use your pain as your song,_ ”

Julie can feel her heart aching at the words,

“ _cause there are times when you’re gonna be all on your own_ ,”

her voice starts to shake, and Luke glances up at her to give her a nod of encouragement,

“a _nd you’re gonna have to fight to carry on, so use your pain as your song, and heal and move on, and then I’m gonna watch you. . .”_

Julie can feel her lip trembling, hours of pent up emotion threatening to spill over as she finishes the line,

“ _fly_.”

Luke is right about the chord not sounding right, but he doesn’t seem at all concerned with the song anymore.

He’s looking right at her. And she’s usually used to the look that she gets from Luke after she sings, but this one is different - he looks almost as devastated as she feels.

“ _Julie_ ,” he says gently, and he reaches out to cup her face, using his thumb to wipe at tears she didn’t even realize had spilled.

“Sorry,” Julie mumbles, closing her eyes against his hand. “It’s just the song-and going through her stuff. I just-“

Julie opens her eyes and wipes at her nose with her sleeve.

“Miss her?” Luke fills in, to which Julie sniffs and nods. “I get it-I mean. . .it’s not the same, but-yeah.” Luke sighs like he’s frustrated that he keeps tripping over his words. He brushes his thumb over her cheek again and says, “I wish she was here for you, Jules. I know she would be if she could.”

Julie knows that too, but it still makes her heart ache.

Luke gets it - feels nearly the same kind of ache - and he must sense that Julie’s feeling it now because he reaches over to gingerly close the cover of her mom’s songbook and say, “We’ll come back to it, okay?”

Julie stares down at the cover and runs a hand over it before nodding gently and murmuring a, “Okay,” in response. She glances up to Luke, and he’s still got his guitar cradled in his lap, so she tries for a smile even though she’s still sort of crying and asks, “Will you play me what you were working on when I came in?”

Luke dips his head low, a shine of a barely-there blush tinting the skin just above his cheekbones, and he admits, “It’s kind of about you.”

Julie feels her breath shallow, and then a real smile is breaking onto her face.

Luke glances up to meet her gaze, and he’s got that look in his eye - that stupid starry-eyed gaze that he looks at her with - the one that makes it seem like she hung the moon.

It makes something in her chest flutter.

“Play it for me,” she repeats.

And Luke sighs even though he’s smiling, murmuring what sounds like, “ _bossy_ ,” and then he starts to strum out a sweet, gentle melody.

Julie watches Luke’s hands glide up and down the neck of his guitar, fingers holding and strumming each string expertly. She closes her eyes and really listens to the chords he’s playing.

 _Yeah - maybe all she needed was to lose herself in some music_.

And if it just so happens to be something that Luke wrote for her instead, then so be it.

Her mom’s music will _always_ be there for her - and until it stops hurting to play, Luke’s songs will suffice.

He starts singing, and the butterflies kick up again.

 _Yeah_ , _Luke’s music will definitely suffice._


	5. five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: blood/injury (nothing major, but still front-and-center in this chapter)
> 
> basically just julie daydreaming about luke's arms/abs for 2500 words. (which, like, relatable)
> 
> have a great read🤍

“You’re a terrible sous chef.”

From his place atop the counter, Luke rolls his eyes dramatically and accepts the egg-covered spatula that Julie hands him.

He drops it into the sink, and it falls hard enough into a bowl of water that it splashes Luke in the face. He reaches for the hem of his cut off ACDC shirt and drags it up to wipe at his eyes, exposing a good portion of his midriff. 

Julie glances away before she can dwell on it.

“In my defense,” Luke says, “ _you_ asked for _my_ help. I didn’t volunteer.”

Julie rolls her eyes back at him and sighs, knuckles deep into a bowl of egg and sugar mixture. She’s trying to fish out a piece of shell; key word - _trying_.

She grimaces at the feeling of the egg and looks up to tell Luke, “That was before I knew you _sucked_. I figured, hey - lead guitarist, skilled with his hands - must be skilled at using them for baking too.”

Luke just grins at her, and she’s finding it harder and harder to be annoyed at him with the look he’s giving her.

She blushes and looks away, hoping he’ll just mistake the redness for her overheating. The oven _is_ on and heating the already-warm room, so it’s plausible.

Julie knows the moment he sees it though, and decidedly does _not_ mistake it for overheating because he teases, “My _skilled_ hands can do other things,” and Julie almost _chokes_.

This boy will literally be the death of her.

Before she can stop it, Luke slides down off the counter and traps her in place from behind, arms around her waist, squeezing the _life_ out of her.

Julie can’t move because she’s finally almost gotten the shell out, so she just sighs while Luke sets his chin on her shoulder.

Now, she’s actually overheating.

She _finally_ grasps the piece.

“You’re gross,” she tells him matter-of-factly and shoves his arms away so she can throw the shell into the sink and wash her hands.

“I was talking about _hugs_ , Molina,” Luke assumes his position on the counter and points a finger at her accusingly. “ _You’re_ the one with your mind in the gutter.”

Julie rolls her eyes again and goes back to the mixing bowl.

It’s a Sunday afternoon, and the sun is high in the sky, so it's probably nearing four or five. There’s a bake sale at her school tomorrow, and _she_ of all people had been asked to make something.

Julie had agreed only on the premise that her dad would be helping her, but he had to pick up an extra shoot instead.

So even though she had (and still has) no idea what she’s doing, she figured she could just do it on her own. Like - really, _how hard could it be?_

She had gotten three minutes in before she almost lost her hand in the stand mixer and called Luke for reinforcements.

So here she is, arms deep in a recipe that she doesn’t really know how to read, with Luke as unhelpful as he’s ever been.

Julie tries not to acknowledge the fact that she’s enjoying his company anyway.

“Here,” she says, grabbing Luke’s hand and guiding it to sit on top of the silver stand mixer. “Turn it off when it gets-“ she glances back to the recipe, “creamed?” Mostly to herself, she mumbles, “Whatever the hell that means,” but Luke hears it and laughs anyway.

They’re making chocolate chunk cookies - nothing _really_ special - except they _are_ special because they’re her mom’s recipe, and they’re full of Puerto Rican chocolate instead of regular chocolate chips.

Julie disappears into the pantry in search of said chocolate, and she spends a good part of two minutes trying to find the bars, but eventually does - _thank God_ \- because she doesn't think she could handle a chocolate shortage on top of everything.

Stepping back into the kitchen, Julie is almost hesitant to ask, “How’s it coming?” 

Luke is off the counter now, standing in front of the mixer. It’s turned off, so he either broke it or finished creaming together the butter and sugar.

She takes a step closer and finds that it’s the latter. Well - she thinks. Hell if she knows what it's supposed to look like.

“I think it’s finished. Does that look right?”

Julie shrugs.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

Luke smiles at her again and shakes his head.

“Sounds promising.”

She just hums and goes to find a cutting board and knife to chop the chocolate with.

Days like this are nice - when she doesn’t have to worry about school or homework or band practice. There’s soft music playing in the background of the sun-warmed kitchen, and it’s just _nice_.

Luke is a nice bonus too – a really nice one.

Especially when he’s wearing a muscle tee.

_Jesus. . .those arms–_

Julie flushes deeper at that particular thought, but doesn’t really stop entertaining it.

She’s humming along to the song, blushing steadily as her mind fixates on Luke and his lack of sleeves, and she is decidedly _not_ paying attention to what she’s doing when the sharpest pain she’s ever felt suddenly radiates up from her hand and makes the knife she’s using clatter to the cutting board.

She glances down, and there’s a literal _gash_ from the tip of her thumb to the edge of her palm, and _goddamn that’s a lot of blood._

“Hey, Luke?” She definitely should mention that blood makes her feel like passing out. “ _Luke_ -“ and it's a little more urgent.

Eyes still on whatever he's working on, he asks, “Yeah, what?”

Julie can't really do anything but bite her lip to keep from crying, and the silence must hang for too long because Luke finally looks over at her.

She holds her hand up in the air for him to see, and he starts moving with a “ _Shit_ ,” falling out of his lips.

Luke is asking, “ _What did you do?_ ” before he even gets over to her, but one glance at the cutting board on the counter behind her gives him his answer.

And then he’s cradling his hand underneath hers and the blood is _dripping_ down onto his, and Julie feels a second away from passing out.

She glances down at the injury again - which is really not the _smartest_ decision she's ever made, but she's not really thinking clearly - and her knees buckle at the sight.

Julie is already bracing herself for the fall, but Luke's hands jump to stabilize her before she can. 

“ _Jesus_ -“ he looks at her with big eyes, his brows pulled tight in worry. “What was-“

“ _I’m gonna pass out_ ,” she breathes desperately. She laughs then, but it’s more panicked than anything. She feels her vision swimming. “Don’t make fun of me if I pass out, okay?”

“Hey–“ Luke shakes her, a hand on her upper arm and the other on her face, saying vehemently, “ _no_ passing out. You’re fine. _You’re fine_. Eyes on me.”

Julie breathes in and out slowly, keeping her eyes locked onto Luke’s until her vision clears.

“Hey-" he shakes her gently this time, "you good?”

She manages a nod.

In response, Luke guides her hands to his shoulders, and she's opening her mouth to ask what he's doing, but then he's got both hands on the back of her thighs, lifting her slightly, boosting her onto the countertop.

Julie uses his shoulders as leverage and slides back onto the surface, immediately feeling less floaty.Apparently supporting her own body weight is a lot of work.

He reaches behind her then and comes back with a washcloth that he wraps around her thumb. He holds it there, applying so much pressure that it kind of hurts.

They stay like that for a minute before Luke asks, “If I go get the first-aid kit from your bathroom, you still gonna be upright when I get back?”

Between the support of the counter and the dark washcloth sufficiently hiding the sight of the blood, Julie feels a little more steady, so she nods.

Luke poofs out and back within a matter of seconds.

He sets down the first aid kit next to her, and he reaches into it for gauss and an antiseptic that Julie already knows is gonna sting like hell.

Then Luke is taking her hand, but hesitating when he gets to the cloth and saying, “Keep your eyes on me okay?” He chuckles gently when he adds, “No fainting on my watch, okay?”

Julie nods at his instruction, feeling incredibly stupid at the whole situation.

First, she had to go and cut herself because she was paying more attention to Luke’s abs than the knife she was using, and now she’s a second away from literally passing out in his arms at the sight of the cut _she_ caused. _Stupid. So, so stupid._

And then Luke hisses again, “Shit,” because he’s got the cloth off of her hand now, and he shakes his head as he leans down, apparently getting a closer look. “You got yourself _good_.”

Julie feels tears welling at the corners of her eyes suddenly. In all the commotion of almost passing out, she nearly forgot that it _hurts like hell_.

“Yeah, I know,” she says, making sure the annoyance is more evident in her voice than the tears. “I’m literally the _only_ person capable of almost cutting my finger off while making chocolate chip cookies. Laugh at me when I’m not bleeding out, okay?”

And then without warning, Luke is pressing a cotton pad full of antiseptic to her skin – and she knows the element of surprise is on purpose, so the anticipation doesn’t make the pain worse, but Julie still swears a blue streak the second she feels it.

“Sorry,” Luke says gently, and he really sounds like he is.

He dabs at her skin, and it’s all Julie can do to not curse at him again.

“This is deeper than I thought,” Luke comments, then he’s looking back up, carefully keeping the bloody cotton pad out of her view as he reaches for a clean one. “How the hell did you do this?”

Julie flushes at the memory.

“Just wasn’t paying attention.”

Her brain helpfully fills in: _because you were thinking about Luke’s muscles,_ but she decides to pointedly ignore that thought.

Luke just shakes his head, something fond in the way he does it, and then he’s finally pulling away the cotton pads and reaching for the gauss and tape and some sort of tube.

“So you don’t like blood?” Luke poses casually, finally glancing up to catch Julie’s eye.

“More like it doesn’t like me.” Julie shrugs. “Always been that way, I guess.” She laughs then, something bittersweet. “Even when I was a kid, my mom always had to use red washcloths when I got hurt so I couldn’t see anything.”

Luke smiles at her and reaches for her hand again. Something cold touches her skin, and she can only assume it’s the ointment from the tube he picked up.

Then Luke is asking, “So is it _all_ blood? Like would you pass out if I got cut, or is it just your own?” and Julie kind of realizes that he’s trying to distract her, but she lets him because he’s doing a good job.

Shrugging again, Julie tells him, “Usually just my own. I can pretty much deal with other people’s, but my own–“ she makes a fake gagging sound that has Luke laughing at her. Then _she’s_ giggling, because she suddenly remembers, “I _literally_ passed out the first time I got my period. Worst experience of my life.”

 _That_ has Luke glancing up, his eyes wide for a second before he’s laughing too.

“Please tell me you went down at home?”

Julie scrunches up her nose and shakes her head, not quite able to keep the laughing contained. She’s glad she can laugh about it now, because 12 year-old Julie had almost fallen apart over it.

“The school bathroom. It was so _gross_. I had a bruise on the back of my head for like two weeks.”

He glances up at her, laughing too, and Julie kind of finds it stupidly endearing that he blushes pink when he teases, “So you just pass out once a month and then move on with your life or what?”

Luke starts tying off the gauss around her hand as Julie rolls her eyes in response to his question.

“Of course not. I just-got used to it I guess.” She shrugs. “Period blood doesn’t really faze me anymore.”

“But hand blood does?” Luke quips, grinning.

“You’re so mean to me,” Julie complains.

Luke rolls his eyes then and holds up her wrapped hand up to her face as he says, “So mean that I just cleaned your bloody hand and wrapped it for you? Oh _yeah_ \- practically abusive.”

Julie pulls her hand out of his grip to inspect the bandaging, and before she can think about what she’s saying, she blurts, “It’s your fault anyway.”

Luke’s eyebrows go up at that, and he laughs incredulously as he asks, “How is you slicing your hand open _my_ fault?”

A blush rising high on her cheeks, Julie slides off the counter and says, “Nevermind.”

_Shit._

She turns back to the cutting board, still stacked high with abandoned chocolate bars.

There’s no actual danger of her attempting to cut more chocolate after the disaster that just went down, but if she turns back around, Luke is gonna look at her with his stupid teasing eyes, and that just might make her admit why him and his bicep’s are to blame for the amount of pain she’s in right now. And that’s _not_ happening.

“You can’t just go accusing me of making you hurt yourself and then not tell me _why_ ,” Luke says, still laughing, likely at how clearly uncomfortable she is - _evil bastard._

She refuses to look anywhere but at the knife on the cutting board, but she doesn't _have_ to look to know that Luke is crowding her space.

“It’s nothing,” she says again, grabbing the knife and nearly running into Luke with it when she spins around.

He backs up immediately, hands lifted in the air.

Then he’s following her to the sink, saying, “Come on, Jules, tell me.”

“ _No_ -move-“ he’s not even really in her way this time, but he still backs up.

“ _Julieee_ -“

“No, Luke. Go get another knife. _You’re_ chopping this time.”

So with a roll of his eyes, he goes.

They spend the next hour finishing the cookies, and the sun is low in the sky, a pretty summer sunset in full swing by the time they’re done.

The cookies turn out pretty good - but that’s according to Carlos, and the kid will eat anything, so Julie’s not actually convinced that her injury was worth it. She guesses they’ll find out at the bake sale.

Julie never tells Luke why it’s his fault - even when he’s bothering her about it as he’s helping her re-dress the bandage after her shower - and it’s probably a secret she’ll take to the grave. Or to Flynn. Whichever comes first.


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: depressive themes
> 
> basically just me reinforcing the idea that it's okay to just have a sad day™️ with absolutely no justification needed

“Jules? You busy?” 

Julie glances up at Luke’s voice, and he’s in her half-open doorway, hands shoved into his pockets. 

She  _is_ kind of busy - she’s sprawled out on her floor, writing a persuasive essay on the Great Gatsby and why Nick is  _definitely_ gay for Jay - but that doesn’t stop her from shaking her head and beckoning him in.

“Just doing homework. You need something?”

He shakes his head, rocking back on his heels and shrugging as he says, “No-I. . .just wanted to see you, I guess.”

That has Julie glancing up again. There’s too much hesitation in the way he says it, and he looks. . .distinctly  not-Luke-like.

He’s wearing sweats and a hoodie. . .with  actual sleeves, and his fringe is kind of in the way, but his eyes almost look red-rimmed. 

Something is clearly wrong, but if she doesn’t play her cards right, he may never tell her what it is.

So she says, “Well I’m just writing an essay. You can keep me company if you want.”

Luke nods, and throws her a smile that almost seems grateful - for what, though, she’s not sure.

He circles over to the other side of her bed and flops down on his stomach, pushing himself up to where he can set his head on his crossed arms and look over her shoulder.

They sit in silence for a few seconds, Julie finishing out the sentence she was writing when Luke came in, all while being very aware of his eyes on her.

Suddenly, Luke reads off, laughing incredulously, “An-an analysis of why Nick Carraway wanted to  _ bang _ Gatsby? Jules,  _ what the hell_?”

Julie glances back down to the document and laughs too. 

“ _Obviously_ that isn’t the  final name. It’s just the one I’m sending to Flynn when she reads it.”

Luke laughs again, and she can see him shake his head at her from her peripheral.

“So your essay’s on The Great Gatsby?”

Julie hums.

“Yeah, we got to choose between it or To Kill a Mockingbird, but, ya know, I’ve really got a strong argument with this one.”

There’s another laugh from Luke, but Julie can tell that it’s less genuine than the others.

“I had to read Gatsby too-in like 10th grade-“ he cuts off suddenly.

Julie glances back at him, and he’s got that _something sad_ back in his eyes again. 

Talking about his life before they were ghosts isn’t something he often does - he closes up, or tells her  _ nevermind,_ or just stops talking altogether - much like he’s just done.

It kind of breaks her heart to see Luke - her energetic, _never-can-get-him-to-shut-up_ Luke - withdrawn and quiet.

“Hey-“ before she can think herself out of it, she reaches her hand up to grasp at his, “you okay?”

The angle she’s holding her arm at is kind of odd because she’s only halfway turned towards Luke, and he’s all the way on top of her bed, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

He squeezes at her hand and shrugs.

“ _Luke_. . .” she presses, gently, so he doesn’t shut down.

He’s not quite crying yet, but Julie senses he’s close.

“Just a. . .I’m just having a day, I guess. I’m fine, though, so don’t like-“ Luke finally meets her eyes then, and he must see that she’s in no mood for him to deflect his feelings, so he deflates and shrugs again. “It just happens sometimes. I’ll be okay.”

Julie’s arm is going a little numb, so she closes her laptop and stands, circling the bed like Luke had done and sliding in next to him. 

He sighs. 

“Jules-you need to finish your paper. I didn’t mean to make you stop.”

She reaches for his hand again, the angle sufficiently less numbness-inducing, and she shakes her head at him.

“I needed a break anyway.” He won’t look at her anymore, and she’s sure it’s because there’s tears in his eyes. Softly, she pries, “What’s wrong?”

Tears fall and soak into the fabric of the duvet underneath him, and Julie’s heart breaks a little more. 

“Nothing-nothing’s _wrong_ -“ and it would be a lot more convincing if there weren’t tears pouring down his face as he says it. 

Julie fixes him with an _I_ _-don’t-believe-a-single-word _ look, and he averts his eyes, looking a little helpless.

“I’m just. . . _ sad._” He turns her hand over in his and twists at one of her rings. “I don’t know. It’s stupid. I just. . .get like this sometimes.”

“Luke, it’s not-“ she shifts a little so she’s more on her side and her hand is more easily accessible to Luke, who’s still playing with it, “it’s not _stupid_. Feeling sad for no reason is  okay.” She shakes her hand in his so he glances up to her. “It’s not- _you’re allowed to have_ _ days, _Luke. I have them like. . .all the time.”

Luke doesn’t say anything to that, and Julie _really_ doesn’t want to dwell on the fact that it’s probably because he doesn’t believe he’s allowed to feel like this. 

“Look,” Julie says, “I don’t have anything better to do than have a sad day with you, so that’s what we’re gonna do, okay?”

Sniffing, a look of fond amusement comes into his eyes, and he shakes his head at her. 

“What all does a  _ sad day _ include, Jules?”

She smiles at that, feeling a little victorious at getting him to smile - even if it is kind of half-assed.

“Movies. Lots of ‘em. And hot chocolate, if I can convince my dad to make some of his. It’s the best. It can cure anything. Even sad days.”

Luke looks amused now – not really  _ happy, _but fond and soft like he always looks when he’s looking at her. 

“You think he’ll make it?”

Julie just smiles at him and pulls a face – the picture of innocence, with big eyes and a pouting lip to match. 

“How could he say no?” She laughs as she drops the face, and Luke smiles a little. “Stay here and pick a movie, okay? I’ll be back in like ten minutes. Tops.”

She slides off her bed and reaches for her laptop to hand over to Luke so he can find something to watch. And as he takes it from her, without thinking, Julie squats down and gently puts a hand to the back of his head so she can lean forward and press a soft kiss to his forehead. 

Julie can hear his breath hitch at the action, and it occurs to her that she’s never kissed his forehead before, and that the last person to do it was likely his mom.

_ That’s. . .heavy. _

She pulls back before she can become the reason that he starts crying again. 

“No more than ten minutes, okay?” 

True to her word, ten minutes later, after very little bribing, Julie’s dad is handing her two mugs of hot chocolate, a pile of half-melted marshmallows on top of each. 

“Thanks, dad,” Julie murmurs, and she leans up to kiss his cheek for his trouble. 

Her dad just smiles at her with a shake of his head and turns back to the kitchen. 

“Tell Luke I hope he feels better.”

Carefully balancing the mugs and a container of Oreos, Julie starts up the stairs, calling behind her a, “He  _ will_. Your hot chocolate can cure anything.”

She can hear her dad chuckle even as she reaches her bedroom. The door is still ajar - the way she left it - so she nudges it open with her elbow. 

Luke’s on her bed properly now, propped on pillows so he’s more sitting than laying, and he’s not crying anymore, so that’s probably a good sign. 

Julie stands in the doorway for a second too long. 

Luke is so  _ good _ all the time. He's all piles of energy and boundless positivity - always so ready to take care of her or make her feel better.

It never really occurred to her that he gets bad days just like she does; where being alive (or almost) is too much to handle, and the world seems weighted down by the sadness and everything feels heavy and hard. 

It makes her heart ache – knowing that there’s probably been plenty of days he’s felt like this, and he just didn’t let her know – and he went through it all on his own because he’s just as stubborn as she is and miles more emotionally stunted. 

God – she  _ loves _ him. But he can be so stupid sometimes. 

It’s the boy in question who snaps her out of her reverie – “The famous hot chocolate?” he asks, with a nod to the mugs. 

Jolting at his voice, Julie steps forward with a nod and a small smile, handing over the mug she’d picked for him – a white cup with tiny foxes smattered all over it – and drops the container of Oreos onto her bed. 

The Perks of being a Wallflower is queued up on her Netflix. 

“Do you know what that’s about?” Julie questions, feeling like maybe that movie is a little too heavy for the day he’s having. 

Luke shakes his head and shrugs, lifting the cup to his lips and saying, “Just looked interesting.”

“It’s pretty sad,” Julie warns.

Luke takes a sip, and says, “It’s a sad day. Kinda fits the theme, huh?” Before she can answer, he blinks at her and takes another sip like he’s trying it again to confirm his original thought. “This is like. . .”

“Really fucking good?” Julie finishes. 

It startles a laugh out of Luke, and then he’s nodding, saying, “ Yeah – _exactly_.”

“I told you,” she says. “ _Magic_.” She slides onto her bed with a laugh. “You sure you wanna watch this?”

He nods and reminds her again, " Sad movie for a sad day, Jules.”

So Julie leans forward to click play, and when she comes back, she settles her head between Luke’s shoulder and her pillow, her own cup of hot chocolate nestled precariously in her left hand. She throws her arm over his chest so she can reach his free hand and and lace their fingers together.

She glances up to Luke then, and it’s a little hard because his face is almost directly above hers, but he seems to catch on and glances down to meet her gaze. 

“You okay?” she asks gently. 

There’s a sad little smile that comes on his face, and Julie would almost rather he didn’t smile at all because the sad one kind of breaks her heart. 

“Yeah. I feel. . .better than earlier.”

Julie smiles, dropping her eyes back to the screen.

She hopes he's being honest with her.

“It’s the hot chocolate.”

Luke chuckles and untangles their hands so he can wrap an arm around her waist and pull her closer. 

“Yeah. Totally the hot chocolate.”

Luke falls asleep at the climax of the movie, head resting in the crook of her shoulder, half empty mug tilting in his hand. 

Julie doesn’t have the heart to wake him, even if he _is_ missing the best part, so she just carefully pries the mug out of his hand and sets it on her nightstand next to her own empty one.

Julie settles back against him and covers his hand with hers. 

She prays for a better day tomorrow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my original idea for this chapter was julie taking care of luke in his last moments before crossing over, but i feel like 2020 was emotionally scarring enough, so i went for something a little lighter.
> 
> also, a lil disclaimer: i think that because julie is able to touch the boys now, they have at least some?? sort of human-ness, so in my head at least, they can eat now. 
> 
> basically what i'm saying is that i wanted luke to be able to drink ray's hot chocolate, so i justified it.
> 
> thanks for sticking it out till the end🤍🤍


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